Childhood and photographs
by Katieflood20
Summary: A little insight in to Connie's childhood. For the purpose of this fic Im naming her mother Eleanor.


**A little insight in to Connie's childhood and her early years of marriage. For the sake of this fic I'm naming Connie's mother Eleanor. :) Just a small one shot :)**

**Katie x **

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Connie flicked through old photographs. She stumbled over one of her mother, noting her beauty. She was smiling, something she rarely did, she remembered back to her childhood. There weren't many happy times that Connie could remember, but the photo she had in her hands was one of great importance, of happy times.

Her mother suffered from depression, her 11 year old self didn't really know what depression actually was and she didn't know the full picture at that age but what she did know was that it made her upset to hear her mother sobbing in the other room next to hers.

Eleanor's depression ruled her life. Connie could remember that some days her mother would be up in bed for days and days on end refusing to eat, Connie herself, trying to get her to eat something, anything just to keep her going and at the tender age of 11 Connie had adult responsibilities. Sometimes her farther would send her else where, on those days where her mother who try to harm herself, the difficult days, Connie looking back now could see that her Farther was only trying to protect her.

On the flip side that was when he wasn't in a drunken stupor. This happened often Connie could recall, he'd come home, as drunk as anything, stinking of alcohol. Shouting for a while then passing out at the bottom of the stairs, Connie would always find him in the same place, a bottle of whiskey clasped in his hand come the morning he was too, up in bed curing a hangover,

Connie had to fend for herself as a child, had to grow up very quickly, she loved her patents dearly, and thought it was her duty at the age of 11, to look after the pair of them, she didn't have much of a social life either. There was one girl she did like playing with, her name was Elaine Dalton, (known back then as Pickard) who lived across the street, she'd go for tea at hers once a week, just to feel like a child again, and it felt good.

They became very good friends.

When her mother died. Connie could only remember the very vague feeling of sadness. Her farther took it the hardest and turned to the drink, more then ever. She had to watch that, what her farther get through his grief, the death of this wife, her mother. About growing up quick, even more so now, more so the ever. She'd take the bottle off him and tip them down the sink. It was hard for Connie at that end to comprehend, but even at that age she came through, and weened her father slowly but surely away from the drink.

Having the pictures laid out on the bed, she flicked through some more until she came to a picture of herself and Elaine, they were both smiling and wearing similar dresses. A bike stood between them which they both took turns in riding. Connie smiled, the memories seemed to bring a tear to her eye. That's when she truly felt like a child.

She had several pictures of her and Michael on their wedding day. She felt like a queen, her dress was pure white, with an embroidered pattern on the front. Michael also looked dapper, his suit crisps. They both looked so happy together. Connie smiled, she did miss him being in her life sometime.

She could re-call the first dance as clear as day. The song playing was Whitney Houston one. "And I will always love you" her choice. It was perfect, she clung on to him as they danced around the floor. Her farther was also their, her mother

Their honey moon was just as perfect, they went to America, somewhere Connie had always wanted to go, since being a child. Finding a picture of them both on their honey moon she laughed slightly, looking at the picture she's taken of him asleep. He looked peaceful. She smiled.

Coming to the end of the photo set she smiled looking at all the photos, having only picked out a few the ones spread across the bed told her life stories. The memories of her childhood, the low points and the high. All captured in photographs.


End file.
